Freedom Comes With A Price
by LoonyLinny
Summary: Another Ginnyfic for your troubles. Caution: mental images may seem scarring to young readers.


**(A/N: Hey guys, so I'm sick, and I'm bored. I tried reading some Harry Potter fanfics, but, no offense for those I have read, they didn't very well appeal to me. I had one Ginnyfic itching to come out. A shout out to my two friends at home Hephestusdaughter and vexhiveu1 who will always read my rough drafts at school and the bus. Also a shout out to my friend, not so sure I can call her that seeing as we only talk online, xX-Artemis75-Xx who always has something positive to say about my one-shots.)  
**

The footsteps echo and reverberate back to me as I walk down the empty corridor, I don't really have a point B I have to get to. I'm just walking down the marble floor, not even a thought in my head. I often walk, it soothes my more hyper active nerves. I've gotten a lot more paranoid ever since...

"NO!" I firmly tell myself, "Don't you say his name, don't even think about him. He's gone, and you're free."

If only that were true.

I continue walking, my bare feet slapping the marble floor like a hand against water. "_Blood...I...ssssmell...BLOOD!" _I stop in my tracks and swivel my head left and right, _"Where...are..you?"_ There was a hissing voice that seemed to run through the wall, it whispered in my ear and sent a shiver down my spine,_ "Little masssster. Let...me...kill you!"_ My feet finally gain the courage to move and I bolt down the corridor.

I keep running while my mind is thinking, "_She's coming. She's coming for me!"_ I ran through the corridors and felt as though they were spinning, or my head was spinning. I couldn't keep my feet under me. I was trying on vain to stay upright, but it's like standing on a moving broomstick (which I've actually done, resulting in a broken arm) and I tripped face first.

When I hit the ground, it was wet, like there was water on the floor. I haul myself to my knees and gasped in horror and disgust, I realized I was lying face down in a mixed puddle of blood and water. It was all over me, it coated my arms and cloak, and I could feel it on my face. Panic rushes through my veins, and my heart is hammering in my chest. My breath hastens and I run my hands through my hair, making it redder than it needed to be. My legs felt like jelly making me fall on my butt. I crawl back to the stone wall for support, and gasp when I notice the shiny red blood covering the stone walls. I slowly raise my head; screaming at the top of my lungs at the sight of the message daubed on the wall.

**'HER SKELETON WILL LIE IN THE CHAMBER FOREVER.'**

I've written that message a year ago against my will, and it feels like it's happening all over again. I high-pitched laugh fills the air, making me clamp my hands over my ears. It's _his_ laughter I'm hearing. I squint my eyes shut and will him to leave me in peace, but the laughter keeps getting louder and louder until I can barely hear myself think. I pull my legs close to my chest and try to shake the sound out of my head. 'This isn't real!' I frantically think, 'It's only a dream!' I practically shout in my brain.

A familiar charismatic voice fills my ear, "Is it? Look around you, Ginevra."

I crack open my eyes, before me were bodies. Students. I crawl towards them, afraid that my legs will betray me if I stand, the first person I see is a boy with mousey brown hair and a camera in his hands, "Colin," I whisper. Tears are threatening to spill, and my throat feels constricted. The next is face down, and I can only see a bushy mop of long brown hair, "Hermione?" my voice cracks. She was my best friend, my first best friend, and I killed her.

"That's not all you've done, Ginevra," the voice in my head says. I'm forced to raise my head and another student is tangled in chains. His messy jet-black hair gave it away.

"Harry!" I scream. I, forgetting about my legs, run up to him. His robes are spattered with dark red blood, and his head dangles lifelessly from his neck. The tears pour from my eyes as I, with shaking hands, hesitate to lift his head. To see the emerald-green eyes I've often thought about. But when I am eye level with Harry, the face was of Tom Marvolo Riddle's.

He gave me a broad, sinister grin and began to laugh. A high-pitched, evil laugh that has haunted me for months. Whatever warmth I still had in my body had left me, and my fingers seemed to have frozen over. The ice-like feeling in my fingertips spread through my arms and down my body, I struggled to regain feeling in my arms and neck, but it was fruitless. My unsuccessful struggle just made Tom laugh harder, piercing my ear drums like daggers.

Something forces me to stare up into his face, and I am horror-struck when I find it morphing. His black hair seems to be shrinking back into his scalp, his pale complexion appeared to be turning a sick purplish colour, and his hungry green eyes fill with yellow. Tom's neck grows to an outrageous length and his white teeth grow into yellowing fangs. I am soon staring into the eyes of his terrifying pet. The Basilisk. She brandished her enormous, venom-filled teeth and strikes.

...

I scream at the top of my lungs and bolt upright. A familiar chill of summer's night wind brushes against my skin, and I am surrounded with posters of The Weird Sisters, and Gwenog Jones. I am back in my room, in the Burrow, away from _him_. I turn to face my pillow and find it soaked with my own sweat. The terror I felt finally overwhelms me, and I begin to sob into my knees.

Just then, Mummy and Daddy run in, wands drawn. They find me, and embrace me in a hug. They try to give me words of comfort, but nothing helps. I'm still that stupid, naive, little girl.

I continue to sob and hiccup in my parents arms, one thought plaguing my mind.

_"Freedom comes with a price."_ and I will never be free.


End file.
